


Old Dog

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [76]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Greg and Mycroft Lestrade-Holmes return from their honeymoon and Greg discovers he still has someone important in Mycroft's life to meet.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [76]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090899
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Old Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Old and Dog

Mycroft and Gregory stretched with audible groans when the pilot announced their approach into Heathrow International Airport.

Two days ago, were on a beach in St. Croix idly enjoying the sea and surf when Mycroft, in a rare moment of whimsy, saw there was a place that had horseback riding. Greg knew Mycroft had grown up around horses and was a decent rider, he was not surprised. He had questioned whether they should wait until the next day when they were more rested. Mycroft took that as a jab at being old and insisted.

“Why? Are you feeling your age, old dog?”

He was only four years Mycroft’s senior, still the next thing Greg knew, he was on a spirited palomino mare named Orianna, Latin for sunshine, and Mycroft was on a gelding named Saeiqa, which apparently was Arabic for lightning. They rode pleasantly along the beach until Mycroft looked at Greg with a wicked gleam in his eye and suddenly took off in an unspoken challenge to race. Greg realized Mycroft had thought Greg’s summers at his uncle’s farm meant the detective inspector’s equestrian skills was limited solely to farm work. It may have been a decade since he had ridden hard, but he remembered how it’s done. Greg gripped Orianna’s reins tight and went after him.

“Who you calling old?” Greg shouted with delight. For the rest of his days, Greg will never forget Mycroft’s look of utter shock when he sprinted past and egged his horse faster.

“Betcha wasn’t expecting that new trick were ya?” Greg grinned when Mycroft had finally caught up to him.

“So much for your being old.” Mycroft had conceded with a respectful bow from the saddle.

Still, each man felt it and happily spent the remainder of the time with more sedate activities.

In the weeks before that there had been parasailing in Santorini. Hiking and swimming, rock climbing and snorkeling, as well as some spelunking in various French Polynesian locales.

Of course, there was copious love making throughout.

It was their honeymoon after all.

Now they had been mostly stationary for the past few hours on their private jet. Mostly stationary, because Greg seduced Mycroft to add more mileage points to their club as married men. Their bodies screamed in the motionlessness after a month of whirlwind activity. Still, seeing the city of London in their windows was exciting in its own wonderful way as always.

Mycroft raised a brow as he reached for his mobile. “Ready, love?”

“Bloody, no. God, I feel so tired. I need at least another day to rest.” Greg groused as he took out his mobile as well. He gave Mycroft a playful scratch in the short beard the man had grown in the past week. It gave him a slight rouge look that Mycroft has discovered Greg liked very much. “Fine, let’s do this.”

Together they turned on their respective work mobiles. Neither man look at the screen. The simply turned their mobiles on, placed them on the table in front of them and watched as the vibrations caused each to bounce around the table like wind-up chattering teeth toys.

As usual, Greg’s mobile stopped first; he only had London to worry about. Still, his eyes widened at how long Mycroft’s mobile continued to vibrate even as he began to scroll through his own messages. While Greg was left to handle his own communications, Anthea vetted Mycroft’s correspondence whenever he was away and processed what was needed. Maybe Armageddon itself would have made her disturb their honeymoon, _maybe_. And that was only if he or Mycroft had noticed its occurrence and called in. It was almost routine now as they started to respond while they deplaned.

Travelling with Mycroft had many advantages, but Greg’s utter favorite was skipping the customs and immigration lines as they were quickly checked-in. Mycroft was used to it and paid it no attention, but Gregory still marveled at the convenience while they walked hand-in-hand to their waiting sedan on the tarmac.

“’Tis a miracle, the world has managed to not implode upon itself entirely during our absence.” Mycroft sighed as he pocketed his mobile at last while the sedan rode the familiar streets of no place like home.

“Speak for yourself, love. Donovan and Hopkins want to kill your brother. I am in for an earful when I get back to the office tomorrow.” Greg sniffed, “John has warned me that Sherlock is on a tear and he apologizes now for the migraine he predicts I will have by 9am. I’m getting to old for this shite.”

“That way.” Mycroft quietly instructed their driver, Marcus, out of the blue and glanced at Greg but said nothing else other than to gesture with his hand and repeat the instruction. Greg knew that plotting look of Mycroft's and gasped when Marcus made a turn and he realized where they were headed.

Gregory had not yet had the honor of meeting any of the main family members most people thought of when they thought of British Royalty. He had once shaken hands with one of the dukes after a high-profile case had Greg in the news, but that was as good as it got. Even that encounter was years ago, long before he and Mycroft became a couple.

On a subconscious level Greg knew the Royals were aware of his existence. He knew exactly who his husband was and his importance to The Crown. He and Mycroft kept their private life as private as possible, but there was no way Mycroft could take off on a month’s holiday for their honeymoon without them knowing.

Greg understood that Mycroft had never taken extended time for himself like this before. Mycroft’s cold-hearted reputation extended even to the Crown. He was reasonably sure that the depth of their relationship was not truly understood by them until reminded by Mycroft the day before their wedding that they were getting married and he would be gone for a month. 

“Is this what I’m thinking, love?” Greg questioned nervously.

Mycroft showed him the text which informed the Iceman their arrival in London had been noted and that an audience was requested of them both at their convenience. Greg blinked when he read “at their convenience” knowing it for the _immediately_ that was truly meant.

This was a not-so-subtle reminder of who _she_ is. They were just off the plane, travel wrinkled and weary. He knew they both felt every second of their fifty-plus years, yet they were being summoned to an audience with the Queen herself and not even Mycroft Holmes would ignore that.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right.” Mycroft’s smooth voice floated to him with a devil-may-care chuckle in his tone at the end.

Greg realized then that Mycroft knew this would happen or at the very least suspected its possibility.

“You dog! I have the excuse of not being warned, but you are purposely going to face Queen Elizabeth II in a casual suit and a fuzzy face.” Greg accused.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Mycroft confirmed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my posh husband?” Greg semi-joked, “You know the bloke that knows the difference between a Four-in-Hand, a Half Windsor, a Full Windsor and a double Windsor and countless other knots as well as how to tie them correctly in one go? I mean you look gorgeous, love and you know I adore the beard, _but it’s the queen_!”

“She wants to meet like this? Fine." Mycroft winked with a self-satisfied smirk as the sedan pulled to a stop within the palace grounds.

Greg was not at all sure if he were more proud or more appalled as he climbed out of the sedan behind Mycroft.

"Let’s introduce her to the one man worthy enough to crack the ice.” Mycroft held out his hand and confidently led his new husband into Buckingham Palace. “As for my not worrying about our appearance, who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [_Mark Gattis post_](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0My51JFKk5)discovered on Instagram.


End file.
